


Wandering Alone

by aravenwood



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Gen, Hurt Jaskier | Dandelion, Hurt/Comfort, Jaskier | Dandelion Whump, Stranded
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:48:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24625003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aravenwood/pseuds/aravenwood
Summary: After being taken from their camp in the middle of the night, Jaskier is left alone and vulnerable in the forest.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 6
Kudos: 161





	Wandering Alone

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all, hope you're well! This fic has been in my head for a while but originally with a very different end. Maybe I'll write that fic soon. But for now, enjoy this one!
> 
> This was written for the bad things happen bingo prompt "bound and gagged".

Geralt would find this funny, Jaskier realised as he stumbled through the woods with his hands tied behind his back and a rag forced into his mouth. Why wouldn’t he? – the bastarding cowards who had taken Jaskier from his own bed and tied him up like this, beaten him until he could hardly see straight, then abandoned him to face his inevitable demise, had taken from him the things which annoyed Geralt most about the bard. His ability to sing – or even talk – and his ability to play the lute.

He wondered absently if his captors had known how cruel they were being by leaving him helpless like this. Oh who was he kidding, of course they knew – men who roamed the woods at night and snatched innocent bards from their camps knew exactly what they were doing. They were probably laughing about it at this very moment, taking bets on how long it would take before Jaskier was mauled by beasts or robbed by bandits.

It had been pure luck that neither had happened so far, but the very real idea that this could happen kept Jaskier moving. He was exhausted and in dire need of something to eat, soaked to the skin from the storm and very close to curling up on the forest floor and crying from it all. But Geralt had taught him better than that – had taught him that if there was even the slightest chance of survival then he had to fight for it no matter the cost. Geralt was a wise man when he wanted to be.

And so, with Geralt’s voice growling at him to keep moving, Jaskier pushed onwards. His lungs and legs and shoulders were burning together, so intense that he was slightly glad for the gag just so he didn’t sob with every fresh wave of pain. He had no idea where he was going either – every tree looked just like every other tree and gave him no indication as to where he and Geralt had set up camp the previous night. He was staggering almost blindly and there was a very real possibility that he was going deeper into the woods instead of towards a town or village.

If he was to die out here, there was every chance that his body would never be found. The thought brought fresh tears to his eyes and he didn’t bother holding them back, just let them stream down his face. Quickly he was sobbing, shoulders jerking and tiny whimpers escaping through the gag.

“Jaskier!”

He froze on the spot, head twitching in every direction in an attempt to figure out where the shout had come from. He tried to shout back but all that came out was a muffled cry, barely loud enough to be heard over the storm.

“Jaskier!” Geralt shouted again. His voice was a little quieter this time as he headed in what was clearly the opposite direction from the bard. Jaskier’s eyes widened and he spun wildly in a circle, taking in every inch of forest but seeing no sign of the witcher. When the cry of his name came a third time, he convinced himself that it was coming from behind him and he set off at a staggering sprint in that direction.

There wasn’t another shout, at least not that Jaskier could hear. Granted, he was so focused on keeping on his feet and searching the trees for Geralt’s hulking figure that he probably wouldn’t have heard it even if there was one.

He could find no sign of Geralt. Letting out a cry of frustration, he fell to his knees and pressed his forehead into the ground. How could he have lost Geralt? His only chance of a rescue and it was gone. He was such an idiot and he’d probably just sealed his own fate with his stupidity! Anger and pain and fear closed in on his mind and he started to sob again, louder and more aggressive than before. He shook in the freezing rain and choked on the gag with every heaving breath, which only made him cry harder.

A hand touched his back and he screamed around the gag and threw himself sideways to escape. He squeezed his eyes tight shut and scrambled backwards until he hit a tree, his hands trapped behind him. He didn’t care how pathetic he had to look, maybe if he looked pitiful enough then they would leave him alone. That normally worked with monsters – or they just found it funny and taunted him until he was moments away from pissing himself out of fear -.

“Bard. It’s me.”

Jaskier’s eyes flew open and they landed on Geralt crouched in front of him, hands raised to look as unthreatening as possible. There was anger in his eyes which Jaskier worried was aimed at him until the witcher spoke again. “What the fuck did they do to you?”

The bard just stared at Geralt for a long moment, then threw himself at the larger man, burrowing in his chest and sobbing. He felt Geralt tense up, not even breathing, until a hand patted him on the back and a thick arm wrapped around his shoulders.

“It’s alright, bard. You’re safe.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
